


The Three Oaks

by Ellerianna



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bartenders, Charlie isn't terrible, Chester is a douche, Eggsy is a Little Shit, F/M, Harry is a spy, Kingsman is still a thing, Merlin is mom, Roxy is awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:45:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellerianna/pseuds/Ellerianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Spy and a Tailor walk into a bar...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Strange Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> G'day Folks!   
> This is my first fic ever, so please be gentle. That being said, I enjoy constructive criticism, and I encourage you to leave a comment if you find something odd.
> 
> So please sit back and enjoy the AU that nobody asked for.

If there was one thing he was completely aware of, it would be that he was entirely done with this day. Saville Row was in darkness for the most part as he made his way towards the shop, which was just fine as he didn't feel the desire to hide his limp. Was it late? Early? God he was tired, he just wanted a hot cup of tea and his own bed, but he knew it would be hours before he could go home. Merlin was going to insist keeping him as punishment for ruining the newest pair of glasses. Honestly, Merlin should be used to this by now, but no, it was the same song and dance every single bloody time. Maybe he could bribe Merlin with the USB he managed to grab...

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by raucous laughter, the source coming from two men leaving what looked like a bar. Odd, had that always been there? It was practically beside the shop, how had he not noticed someone finally leasing that space? 

He checked his watch; 2am. Was the bar still open? He could definitely go for a drink, and at this point he really couldn't give a damn about making Merlin wait a little longer for him. Making his decision he straightens his posture, smooths the creases on his suit, and walks into the...pub? Bar? Tinkling bells announce his presence as he tries to decide what sort of drinking establishment this is. It's warm, a fire place gently crackling in one corner, surrounded by cozy wing backed chairs. There are tables spread about the place, all dark oak that glows in the firelight. There are booths in the back and an old turntable playing what sounds like Bobby Darin. It's nice, he thinks, as it reminds him in a way of his own home. The bar itself is centrally located, and a thing of beauty. Bottles line the back shelf all the way up to the ceiling and a quick cursory glance at the available taps would please the most eccentric of tastes. Humming in pleasure, he makes his way towards one of the bar stools and makes himself at home. One thing that seems to be missing is a bartender. Maybe it is closed? He opens his mouth, about to call out, when he's beaten to the punch. 

“I was just about to tell you that the bar was closed, but it looks like you need a drink.” The voice was female, pleasant, and decidedly not British. He turns towards the voice, and he finds the woman off near one of the booths cleaning the tables. He must be tired if he didn't notice her there. At first glance she's nothing special, with unremarkable features. Late twenties, early thirties would be his guess for her age. Her brown hair is tied up in a loose pony-tail, and she's wearing an incredibly traditional bartending uniform. Her white shirt is crisp underneath her black vest. Except for her shirt, everything is in black; her pants, shoes, and apron are all black. Finishing with the table, she makes her way over to the bar, and that's when he notices that she's tall, almost six feet if he had to guess. Her glasses sit comfortably on her face, the mark of someone who has worn glasses for the entire lives, and her eyes... her eyes are hazel. 

He smiles, ever the gentleman. “My apologies, I'll come back another time.”  
She waves a hand at him as she turns to reach for a glass. “No no, it's okay. As I said, it looks like you need a drink. Tough day?”  
“More or less.” Tone dry as he makes himself more comfortable in his seat. “Thank you.”  
She has bottles lined up on the table as she starts to mix a drink. “You're welcome Mr?”  
“Hart, Harry Hart. And what is your name my dear?” She grins at the endearment, her eyes lighting up with mischief. “Wanda Green, it's lovely to meet you Mr Hart.”

Harry leans against the bar, watching in curiosity as Wanda moves her hands, expertly mixing something he's never seen before. “Are you American?”  
“Canadian, actually. Just opened up shop last week, and I gotta say, it's been interesting.” Her smile is clearly her most attractive feature, Harry can't seem to stop staring. And there's something about her eyes, like they're constantly looking for something. The spell is broken when Wanda makes a sound of satisfaction and hands him a glass filled with... something.   
“Is this what you give people when they come in after hours?” He eyes the drink dubiously. Wanda chuckles. “This is something I do with customers when I have the time. I make a drink based off emotional personality, and so far, I've never been wrong. Go ahead, try it, I promise, if you don't like it, you don't have to pay for it.”

Hesitantly, Harry takes hold of the glass and smells it. He quirks an eyebrow when he detects citrus and something else that smells warm. Eventually, the glass makes it to his lips and he takes a sip. Eyebrows practically disappear into his hairline as the taste explodes on his tongue and he takes a deeper pull from his glass. It was delicious!  
Wanda laughs outright, hands waving in victory. “I knew it!” Harry's empty glass hits the counter as he leans back in satisfaction. “Very good. I don't normally venture away from what I like, so this was a pleasant surprise. What did I just drink?”  
She smirks. “Well, it doesn't have a name yet, as I just made it up. How about.... a 'Strong and Classy'? That seems to suit you pretty well.” Wanda starts to move about, putting things away. “As I said before, I make drinks based off someone's personality and emotions. Now, I don't know you from Adam but I've always been good at reading people. For example...” Wanda gives him a small smile as she starts to clean the counter. “I saw you at the window before you entered, you were limping.” She gives him a look over her glasses, a look that reminds him of Merlin when he's calling Harry an idiot. “I saw the moment you decided to come in here. You made sure that you looked presentable, and you forced yourself not to limp. Whatever you did, whatever happened today, it made you tired to the bone, and instead of going home or to the hospital, you decided to walk into a bar. I know alcoholics, and you're not one, so I can eliminate that from my assessment. But what are you doing in a bar? People who are in a bar at this time of night are usually escaping, or procrastinating, and since you're not looking for an escape I can only assume that you're stalling the inevitable, but on your own time. You've had a long day, so why not decide for yourself what you want to do, eh?” She finishes with the counter, and then starts organizing the bottles, talking over her shoulder.  
“So what does that leave us with? I have a man at the bar here, his name his Harry Hart and he cares about how he presents himself in public. You have a high pain tolerance, an incredibly polite personality... gentlemanly?...and you don't want people to know the whole truth about you, otherwise you would have just limped your way in here. On top of that you're very aware of your surroundings and even with that suit on I can tell you're pretty muscled. Ergo, 'Strong and Classy'. I think it's a good fit, don't you?”

Wanda smiles warmly at him and he smiles back. “I'm honoured, I've never had a drink named after me.” Gingerly, Wanda shakes his hand as he holds it out to her. Her grip was firm and confident, and he knew then that he would be a regular.  
“Welcome to The Three Oaks, Mr Hart.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I'll go with you y'daft bastard, just let go of my hand!” Harry gives him an innocent grin as Merlin finally manages to shake off his hand. They were heading towards The Three Oaks, this time at a more respectable hour in the middle of the week. Harry had only been to the bar on one more occasion since the first time, but he made the mistake of going on a Saturday night, and he was barely able to say hi to Wanda due to the amount of people. This time he came prepared; if there were too many people at the bar he wouldn't have to sit alone. That and he wanted to share the experience with his best friend.   
Merlin blinks at Harry. “Why are we getting a drink in the middle of the day?”  
“Because you need to relax my dear man, and I wanted to show you this quaint little place that I found.” Harry knows he won't be able to hide anything from Merlin as he holds the door open for the other man. With a quirked eyebrow, Merlin walks in and automatically heads for one of the booths at the back. Or, he would have if Harry had not grabbed his arm and steered him towards the bar, pulling out a stool for each of them. Merlin gives him a look, but just goes with it, he doesn't have the patience to put up with Harry's shit today.   
Harry looks around in satisfaction, noticing only a few patrons scattered around the establishment. “What can I get for you guys?”

Harry's head snaps forward, noticing for the first time a young man behind the bar with a similar uniform that Wanda had been wearing. The man...boy?... could barely be eighteen, light brown hair, green eyes and a smile that invited trouble. Before Merlin could open his mouth to order a drink, Harry covers it with his hand. Merlin throws his 'friend' a death glare and Harry only smiles. “I was wondering, my good man, if Wanda is here today?”  
Merlin smacks Harry's hand away as the young man gives them a questioning look, but then realization covers his face. “Oh! You're Harry! She told us about you, looks like you made a good first impression bruv.” The younger man holds out his hand, and Harry takes it. “Call me Eggsy.” Eggsy's grip is firm and confident, very similar to Wanda's. “Wanda's in the kitchen training our new cook, he's a bit of a dick, but don't tell him I said that. Wicked with a stove though, so I'll give 'em props for that. I'll go let Wanda know yer here.”

Eggsy disappears through the door to the kitchen as Merlin turns towards Harry, his grin practically evil. “A drink he says, time to relax, he says. Harry Hart, if you've brought me here to be your bloody wing man, I'm going to make sure you're sent to Siberia for the rest of your career!” Merlin was about to continue when Wanda was suddenly there, blinking at the two of them. “Did I come in at a bad time?”  
She smiles though at seeing Harry. “Welcome back Mr Hart.”   
“Please, call me Harry.”

Harry ignores the kick against his shin. “This is my good friend Merlin. I don't think I mentioned this before, but we work at Kingsman Tailors three doors down. I told Merlin about The Three Oaks, and he absolutely insisted I take him.”  
The kick against his shin hurt a bit more that time.

Wanda smiles at Merlin, giving him an assessing look. “Well, whether or not that's true, I'm glad you're here.” Eggsy waves at them as he goes to wait on tables, and Wanda leans against the bar, continuing to assess Merlin. “Shall I make you a drink?”

Two minutes later Merlin was presented with a mug, steam pouring off the hot liquid within. It's dark and frothy, and Merlin has the same look on his face that Harry had when presented with his first drink from Wanda. “Go on, tell me what you think Merlin.”  
Merlin nods at Wanda, then glances at Harry, and practically rolls his eyes at the shit-eating grin he sees there. Slowly he puts the mug to his lips, and soon enough Wanda is doing her small victory dance as Merlin relaxes into his seat, staring in wonder at the mug he's holding. 

“This is delightful lassy, what is it?”  
“Well, it doesn't have a name yet...” She winks at Harry. “How about a 'Hot and Pissed Off'?” Merlin practically spits out his drink as Harry full on belly laughs, slapping Merlin on the back.   
An hour later, they're walking out of The Three Oaks, Merlin staring at Harry with an incomprehensible look. “For God's sake man, just spit it out.”   
Merlin sighs as Harry's exclamation. “I'm not sure. She's lovely, don't get me wrong, but are you sure this is something you want to pursue?”  
“What?!?”  
Harry stops walking, giving Merlin a wide-eyed stare. “Pursue? Who said anything about pursue?”   
“I don't know why you're overreacting Harry, everyone who has eyes can see you've got something for the lass. Also, I'm going to have to do a background check on her, what with her business being so close to the shop.”  
“I figured you might have to.”  
“Is this something we should inform Chester about?”  
“God no, did Percival find anything while I was away?”  
“Unfortunately not, oddly enough Chester seems to be playing this close to the chest, and unless we can prove without a doubt that he's been dealing with the wrong people, we'll never be able to remove him as Arthur. We'll have to be more careful, I found another poorly placed bug in my office. And it's a little difficult to trace the source when the tech is from your own workshop.”  
Merlin rubs a hand across his face, more tired than he's been for a long time. This whole situation started about a month ago when a case with an arms dealer suddenly disappeared. But it wasn't just an arms dealer, it was a case that went deep and spread far and wide geographically, and just Merlin was getting to the bottom of it with the assistance of Percival and Harry, Arthur ordered them off the case, telling them it was no longer part of their jurisdiction. But that was utter bullshit, they didn't have a jurisdiction. But this hasn't been the first incident where Chester made questionable decisions and it was leaving a bad taste in everyone's mouth, and they were suspecting dirty dealing. There's no reason why Chester would have been able to keep the seat of Arthur for so long, as incompetent as he is, without double dealing on the side. The unfortunate thing is that he had the support of the backers, so that's why they needed solid proof. Merlin felt he was close to something in the paperwork, but he had to put a hold on his research when he noticed that he was being not so subtlety being monitored by his own fucking equipment.   
Harry claps a hand on Merlin's back. “Don't worry, we'll get this sorted eventually.”  
“Hmph, that's easy for you to say, at least you're able to leave the office without drawing attention to yourself.”  
“That's the spirit.”

Merlin's eyes might fall out with how much rolling they do. 

Back in the office, Merlin stares at a screen, his eyebrows slowly climbing up his head. He taps his glasses. “Galahad?”  
“Merlin?” Harry sounded worried at least.  
“Meet me in my office, there's something you need to see.”


End file.
